Bloodsong Hel X 3

by C. Dean Andersson

  The two had ridden in silence until Huld’s fatigue from working the healing spell passed, then the Witch began talking about the most interesting subject possible—herself.

  “And so, when I told my parents my decision,” Huld continued, “my father told me to get out and never return. And all because I wanted to study Witchcraft with Norda Greycloak instead of marrying the neighbor’s son. My father is a soulless man, curse him. I believe most people are like that. Only a few of us truly have souls.”

  Bloodsong yawned. “And so you left home and went to study Witchcraft with Norda Greycloak,” she prompted.

  “Yes, and I never regretted it. Norda didn’t beat me. She was kind. Unlike father, Norda has a soul.”

  “A fortunate coincidence, Norda and you both having souls. How long did you study with Norda?”

  “Until the soldiers came.”

  “Yes. But how long was that?”

  “Three—” Huld hesitated, “years. I was at the stream,” she quickly went on, “when I heard horses approaching. I hurried back to the clearing. Soldiers were carrying Norda, bound in black spell-chains, out of the hut. There was nothing I could do.”

  “Why not use your Witchcraft to stop them?”

  “It was too late.”

  “Too late?”

  “So I hid and watched as she was thrown in a slave cage and driven away.”

  “I wonder why Norda didn’t sense their approach and stop them with her Witchcraft?”

  “Nidhug attacked her with his sorcery, I suppose. How else could he have captured so many other Witches and wizards, many more powerful than my Norda?”

  “How long has Nidhug been capturing magic workers?”

  “I’m surprised you have to ask. Everyone knows that it started about five years ago. I doubt that you could find a Witch or wizard anywhere now, except in isolated frontier dwellings, like my Norda.”

  “Does anyone know why he’s doing it?”

  “Norda didn’t. I certainly don’t. We never thought Nidhug would be interested in capturing a simple forest Witch like her.”

  Bloodsong shook her head in puzzlement. In the six years since she had been in Hel’s realm, something had obviously caused Nidhug’s puzzling behavior—

  Without warning, Bloodsong’s vision darkened. Pain shot through her. A throbbing ache spread outward from her wrists, as though she hung suspended by them. Her upper back felt as if pressed against ice. All feeling left her legs and she could not move them. A wave of dizziness washed over her. And suddenly she was somewhere else and someone else, a slave named Jalna—

  * * *

  Upon the Skull, Jalna’s vision darkened, then suddenly she was free of her pain and terror, riding through a forest upon a gray stallion. A woman with long blond hair rode by her side. The sky was glowing red-orange, though whether with sunrise or sunset she did not know. But then, suddenly, she did know. Sunrise was near. And her name was no longer Jalna. It was Freyadis Guthrun’s Daughter, the legendary rebel arena warrior known as Bloodsong. But she was a Hel-warrior now, intent upon King Nidhug’s destruction. She possessed Witch-powers from Hel, powers she hoped to keep secret.

  Other thoughts cascaded through Jalna’s mind, too, memories of a man named Eirik, who had died screaming, an infant son whose tiny corpse had slowly decayed, tied to her as if nursing, a daughter named Guthrun held hostage with the Dead in Hel’s realm—

  The other woman was speaking to her. She turned to face her, knew she was a young Witch named Huld, saw her frown, heard her curse. Huld drew back her hand. Jalna felt pain as Huld slapped Bloodsong and shouted an incantation.

  Jalna’s consciousness was jerked back to the Skull.

  Nidhug fell to his knees, cursing and holding his head in pain.

  * * *

  Huld slapped Bloodsong again.

  Bloodsong reeled in her saddle. Her vision cleared. The pain left her wrists. Feeling and movement returned to her legs.

  Huld slapped her once more, even harder.

  “Enough, Witch! I am all right, now.”

  “Freya’s Teats, Bloodsong!” Huld exclaimed. “Didn’t you have any barriers against sorcery erected in your mind? You are lucky I was here to stop it, or—”

  “Erecting sorcerous barriers would reveal to Nidhug I have Witch-powers, and I want to keep them a secret from him as long as possible.”

  “But if the sorcerer’s mental probe went deep enough, he may know that now, anyway. What do you remember? Did you feel his thoughts too? Perhaps we can use something you learned.”

  “I seemed for a moment to become a slave woman named Jalna. She was in pain, chained.”

  “Then he used another to receive your thoughts. That way, he was not in direct contact with you. That was a cunning precaution.”

  Bloodsong cursed. “I have to assume that Nidhug now knows my identity at the very least. How much more do you suppose he learned?”

  “The slave woman may hold your secrets, but I acted quickly to repel the probe. Nidhug may not have had time to absorb what she learned. That might not matter much, though. The slave is probably already telling him everything.”

  “Not all slaves willingly obey. But few can long withstand Nidhug’s tortures.”

  Huld shuddered. “I cannot imagine being tortured. Were you ever—”

  “Many times.” Bloodsong’s face twisted with disgust.

  “What did he do to you?”

  “Pray you never find out.”

  Huld shook her head. “The slave may know my name, too, from your thoughts.”

  “At least we can be certain she learned no detailed plan. I don’t have one. That alone may confuse him and give us an advantage.”

  “You have no plan?”

  “What good have plans ever done Hel-warriors when Nidhug’s sorcery can probe their minds? So, I formulated no plan, other than to use my warrior’s instincts to survive until I reach him, that and keeping the Witch-powers Hel forced on me a secret for as long as possible.”

  “Freya’s Teats, she has no plan.”

  “Want to turn back, Witch?”

  “We have an agreement. Don’t try to get rid of me.”

  They rode in silence for a moment, then Huld shook her head. “No plan.” She glanced sideways at Bloodsong, saw a slight smile curve the Hel-warrior’s lips, and shook her head another time.

  SUSPENDED IN AN X between the towering War Skull of Hel’s eye sockets and teeth, Jalna Audsdaughter had no choice but to endure the worsening pain in her manacled wrists and aching shoulders. The torment caused by the ghostly tentacles from within the Skull had stopped when the spell broke, but the mere effort to breathe had become, hanging as she was, more and more difficult.

  Below her, Nidhug was still on his knees, groaning, holding his head in obvious pain. Good! she thought. Bloodsong’s Witch friend hurt him! I wish his damned head would fall off and roll across the floor! The thought brought an unexpected grin. But then— Why am I smiling? It’s not over. Damnit all to Hel!

  She examined the cavern from her elevated vantage point, looked for some reason for hope, saw nothing she had not seen before. Spiders hung in thick webs around the torch-brackets, insects sought warmth on the walls nearest the torches, centipedes scuttled here and there, and rats crept about on the floor. But she hardly cared. Something within her had toughened. Even being chained on the Skull seemed less frightening. Bloodsong, she thought. It’s because I touched the mind of Bloodsong! She’s not dead like Nidhug claimed! And she’s coming back! Skadi be praised! Though Skadi has nothing to do with it, I guess. Bloodsong now fights in Hel’s name—

  Jalna winced and cursed in anger as a new discharge of crackling blue energy sizzled upon the Skull’s surface near her head. She was further angered by the Skull’s pulsing light and the accompanying moan that monotonously throbbed nauseati
ng vibrations through her body. She cursed again and gave her chains a jerk, cursed another time at the pain the movement caused in her wrists and shoulders.

  Skadi’s Bow! There’s no escape! But Bloodsong would not give up, ever! I must be brave. Remember the Ballad of Bloodsong’s Triumph where she was tortured? What were the lines— ‘Oh she laughs at her pain as the king she defies, tells him a joke and then spits in his eyes!’

  Before the spell, Jalna had only known Bloodsong through forbidden stories and ballads. The revolt Bloodsong led happened before Jalna was abducted to Nastrond. But now she knew the legendary warrior was more than stories sung in secret late at night. Bloodsong was real! And had fears, too! But she did not let them stop her from doing what was needed.

  If only I could get free! Jalna thought. She again jerked on her unyielding chains. If I had a second chance now, I would live my life differently. To Hel with cowardly running away from problems and meekly trying to follow all the rules. Look where it got me. But even chained, I can be free, inside.

  Nidhug climbed slowly off his knees and leaned unsteadily against the table of scrolls. Bloodsong! he thought. After six years of waiting, Hel finally sends her against me, but not leading an army of Death Riders. Only one Witch comes with her, a very young Witch in whom I sensed no great power. What trick is Hel trying to play on me this time? Does Bloodsong even know how Hel is using her? Or is the Witch more than she seems? Which deity does she follow? Maybe Hel Herself? Or is she one of Odin’s, curse Him? Surely not Freya. No mere Freya-Witch can defeat my sorcery.

  His dizziness had nearly passed and his headache with it. He stopped leaning against the table, stood straight, rubbed his neck, looked at the young woman on the Skull. Unusually attractive, he noted. She will prize her beauty. I can use that against her. To avoid mutilation, she will do whatever I ask.

  The way Nidhug was taking advantage of her position to coldly study her made Jalna burn with anger. She cursed under her breath. “Enjoying the view?” Oh no! Why did I say that? she asked herself. I know better than to talk back and look directly at the king. She averted her gaze. But why should I care? She stared back into his eyes. “I hope you go blind!”

  Defiance? he thought. Interesting. She was not that way earlier. Did touching Bloodsong’s mind contaminate her? “When that Witch broke the spell, slave, I had not absorbed from your mind all the knowledge I sought. And I dare not use sorcery to examine your memories. The Witch might use the connection against me. I cannot even be certain the spell had time to completely work. So! I pray you, help your poor king!” He gave her a short, formal bow. “The welfare of the kingdom is in your hands.” Excellent! he thought. She looks confused. She was expecting threats and demands, not requests. “Please, my dear child, tell me all you remember about Bloodsong and the Witch riding with her.”

  “Never!”

  Curse it! “Many think that way, until the pain starts.”

  “You can make me scream, but I will never beg you to stop!”

  Those are Bloodsong’s exact words! But maybe I can change this slave’s mind. “It would be easier for me, and you, slave, if you cooperated. As a reward, I will unchain you, give you food and warm clothing, then let you rest. Your disobedience for entering the tunnel will be forgiven. I will even seek the spell to heal your legs!”

  “Free me first!”

  “Start by telling me Bloodsong’s plans.”

  Even if I wanted to do that, I could not, she realized. Bloodsong has no plans.

  Nidhug frowned at her hesitation. “Cooperate with me, slave. It hurts me to see you like this.”

  “Not as much as it hurts me!”

  “Then cooperate!” I’ll try one last ploy. “Little slave—”

  “Little? I’m tall enough to kick your—”

  “Yes, you are. And in truth, I never meant for you to be brought here at all. It was a horrible mistake. Someone will pay. I have noticed you before. Your beauty makes you special. I meant to single you out for special pampering as one of my honored wives. Your beauty, your obvious intelligence—”

  “Intelligent enough to think you are an idiot, if you expect me to believe anything you say!”

  “Enough! Your contact with Bloodsong has contaminated you.”

  “Contaminated? Freed!”

  “No. You are merely imitating her defiance, repeating her words, and acting as she did when facing torture. Examine her memories. You should have them within you, if the spell had time to work. Learn what I did to her the last time, if you dare.”

  Bloodsong’s memories of torture rose in Jalna’s consciousness. What—? The ballad told lies? Bloodsong was tortured and— Jalna shied away from the truth, but there it was! Bloodsong broke! She begged Nidhug to stop when he— The image shocked Jalna to her core. Oh Gods! I couldn’t stand that! Panic flooded through her.

  “No witty comments now, slave? Your expression tells me you know what I did to break the traitor, which confirms that my spell to probe her mind did work.”

  “Curse you!”

  “So now, to avoid sharing Bloodsong’s last torture, tell me her plans and everything else you learned. In detail. Begin!”

  I can tell him the truth about Bloodsong’s plans without hurting her chances. If I cooperate a little, maybe he will not do to me what he did to her. “I will tell you the truth of her plans.”

  He clapped his hands together. “Wonderful news! Do it!”

  “Truthfully, I swear, Bloodsong has no plans.”

  Could it be? he wondered. Yes, of course, it is possible. Hel may have left Bloodsong to her own puny devices, and she has no idea how to proceed against me and my army. Meanwhile, Hel could be planning a major attack, using Bloodsong as an expendable distraction. I must learn everything this slave knows, at once!

  “I am wasting time,” he growled. “Torture will make certain you do not lie.”

  “She has no plans!” Stop it, she told herself. He’s going to torture me, unless I invent false plans he will believe! And false plans might even mislead him and help Bloodsong! She strained against her chains. Think of false plans! she urged herself. Think!

  “Bloodsong’s memories can tell you how horribly disfiguring,” he smiled and swept her with his gaze, “your coming torture will be. I healed her, afterward. But what if I did not heal you? What if you lived the rest of your life as an ugly monstrosity? I could put you on display in a cage, as an example to others, keep what is left of you chained naked for all to see, and, perhaps, never let you die. Imagine surviving the extreme agony awaiting you, then living with the results, forever.”

  Panic built as she listened to his threat, but suddenly her feelings changed. Anger that had simmered for years boiled over. She thought about things she had tried to forget, friends and family Nidhug had killed, her parents and brother and the horror that had happened to them. And she remembered when she had vowed to kill him, the night he laughed while making her mother die of pain. But now it was too late. A berserking rage long suppressed for survival’s sake took control, beat back Jalna’s fear, and swept clean her thoughts. “Better to be thought a monster whose soul is free than a cowardly slave wearing your yoke!”

  “A pretty speech, worthy of Bloodsong. But what if I made your torture worse than hers? Just for the fun of it?”

  For a moment, horror hammered Jalna’s heart. But cooperating or begging for mercy was not what came to her mind. Forbidden words came instead, the battle cry slaves chanted in the Ballad of Bloodsong’s Revolt. I’ve wanted to shout those words since I first heard them, and there will never be a better time! Or worse.

  Jalna’s chest rose as she took a deep breath. “Bloodsong and freedom!” she cried as loudly as she could, then laughed wildly like the free, if doomed, woman she felt she’d become.

  RIDING SOUTH, Huld at her side, Bloodsong winced at a sudden pain.

  Hu
ld saw Bloodsong grimace and touch her forehead. “What’s wrong? Another attack?”

  Bloodsong lowered her hand. “Just a stab of pain. It’s gone.”

  “A pain in your forehead?”

  “Just a bad memory, I think.”

  “Pain in your forehead concerns me. Sorcerous attacks often are felt there first. Tell me more. Quickly!”

  “I remembered the last time I faced torture before the revolt. Nidhug claimed he wanted information he knew I did not have—”

  “Then why torture you?”

  She shrugged. “It was a goal of his to break me. He had tried and failed, several times. But he had something new he wanted to try. On me. Something that he called—” she hesitated, “a Venom Wand.”

  “Sounds horrid.”

  “You’ve no idea.”

  “The filthy monster!”

  “Yes.”

  “So, what did you do?”

  Bloodsong frowned at Huld’s eager expression. “I screamed. A lot.”

  “Of course.”

  “But I was so angry, I hated him so much, I vowed, as always I had before, to die rather than ask him to stop, even though he told me if I died he would bring me back to life, heal my wounds, and start over.”

  “What did the Venom Wand do? Feel?”

  “Is this just a memory I had, Witch? Or an attack? That is why I was telling you. Not to feed your curiosity about torture.”

  “I’m not curious about torture!” Huld quickly responded.

  Bloodsong saw Huld’s face redden. She is blushing! Bloodsong realized.

  “But I believe it is as you thought, more a memory than an attack. To be certain, I will sense the ether more carefully.”

  “The ether.” Bloodsong made a face. Witches!

  Huld closed her eyes in concentration.